


A Real Kiss

by bry0psida



Series: Harringrove Advent [21]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Christmas Party, Drug Dealing, Enemies to Lovers, First Kiss, M/M, Mistletoe, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:07:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21884962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bry0psida/pseuds/bry0psida
Summary: Billy's got something to prove. He's just not sure what that is, exactly.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington/Billy Hargrove
Series: Harringrove Advent [21]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1558885
Comments: 9
Kudos: 129





	A Real Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> "We hate each other, but we’re standing under a mistletoe and our friends won’t let us leave until we kiss AU." [Prompt](https://propertyofpoeandbucky.tumblr.com/post/153107532231/holiday-prompts-send-me-some)

Carol pops her bubblegum. “You going to Tina’s Christmas thing?”

Billy chews his own. “She’s throwing another party?”

“She throws most of the parties in Hawkins,” says Tommy.

“Are they all shit?”

“Tina’s parties aren’t shit,” says Carol. “Look, come or don’t. Just lemme know, thought you’d wanna carpool. Tommy’s driving, Tina doesn’t let boys stay the night.”

Billy blows his own bubble, the pop isn’t satisfying. “Whatever.”

Carol loops her arm through Tommy’s and starts walking to his car. Tommy turns a couple feet away, calls out, “Harrington’s gonna be there, if that changes anything.” Billy flips him the bird.

…

Party’s fucking awful. Billy knew it would be. Idiots in Hawkins don’t know the meaning of the word. They fucking rage back in Oakland. Billy misses getting blackout drunk, stupid high, fucked and beat up in that order more than he thought possible. Fuck Neil. Fuck Indiana. Fuck Hawkins. Fuck Tina’s shitty party. But especially, fuck Steve fucking Harrington.

Billy _hates_ Steve. Steve hates him back. It’s a thing. Helps them both play on the court better, weirdly been helping Billy test better too, now he has someone to one up.

As passionately as Billy _doesn’t_ care for Steve, he’s never really been able to put a finger on why that is. Steve was perfectly nice when they first met. Billy’s not jealous of him. He just can’t get Steve out of his head and it’s making Billy crazy. _Steve Steve Steve_ all day long, he’s got Harrington on the fucking brain. Billy’s addicted to the idiot, and he hates him for it.

It’s not feelings. It’s not a crush. It’s not unresolved sexual tension with another ‘straight’ boy. Billy’s been there, done that. This is something else.

Tommy and Carol think it’s hilarious, always gunning for front row seats to their little spats and near constant goading. Billy’s competitive, Steve is too. Billy started flirting with Steve to try fuck with him, that always works on preppy hetero idiots like Harrington. Only this time it didn’t. Harrington gives as good as he gets. Billy smacks Steve’s ass in the shower, Steve’ll whip a welt with a towel along the back of Billy’s thighs in the locker room. Billy’ll suck off a banana during lunch, Steve’ll deep throat the damn thing the next day. Billy’s not sure how far this could escalate, how far he’d let it. Doesn’t care as long as he isn’t the first to give.

The party’s costume themed. Billy just thought that was a halloween thing. Apparently not. ’S mostly just an excuse for the girls to wear a little less, the boys humour them with Santa hats and the odd ugly sweater. Billy didn’t bother. No one cares.

He does a keg stand for the hell of it, get some attention so he can shift his pocketful of weed and pill baggies a little faster. It’s good money, easy. Safer to deal here than back in Oakland. His competition is Johnathan Byers of all people, it’s nice not to worry about getting jumped for selling on someone else’s turf.

Business is slow here, demand is lower, he compensates by charging a little more. After a good ten minutes without any sales Billy thinks _fuck it_ , digs out one of the few remaining dime bags and rolls himself a joint, lights up right in the middle of the kitchen. The smell attracts a few more buyers, Billy manages to near empty his pockets.

A chorus of _Harrington! Harrington! Harrington!_ echoes through the house. Billy’s managed to avoid him all night, wasn’t even sure he was here till he saw Steve’s stupid hair move through the ocean of drunk teenagers after he got out of the bathroom. He’s probably doing a keg stand. Billy’d go one up him if he hadn’t hit it already.

Carol comes to chat with him in the kitchen, buys a couple Adderall. She’s bitching about some chick Billy doesn’t know the name of. He pretends to listen, smokes his joint, lets it loosen him up.

Steve swaggers into the kitchen. He’s got the same stupid shades he wore the night they met, Tina’s halloween party. Who the fuck wears shades to a Christmas party?

Steve nods at him. “Hargrove.”

Billy nods back. “Harrington.”

Steve pushes the glasses up his forehead, into his hair. Makes Billy pause for a moment, joint halfway to his lips. _Oh_.

“You selling?” Steve asks.

Billy stubs out the half smoked joint in a nearby ashtray, digs what’s left out in his pockets. “Always. What’s your poison?”

“Just weed.”

Carol interjects. “You don’t want anything stronger? He’s got good shit.”

“Not really,”

Billy hands Steve a couple dime bags. Steve hands back a wad of bills. Billy counts it out, hands Steve back a twenty.

“I’m good man, keep it.” Steve says.

Billy frowns at him. “You gave me enough for 60, I only gave you 40.”

“I know,”

“I don’t have more, that’s all of it.” Says Billy. Steve repeats himself. “Steve, take the money.”

“Why are you turning down free money?”

“‘Cause I’m not a fucking charity case!”

“Jeez man, it’s just a tip.”

Billy steps into Steve’s space, folds the twenty and tucks it into his front pocket. Steve tenses, Billy hears him suck in a breath.

“Oh my god, mistletoe!” Carol claps her hands together. “You’ve gotta kiss!”

They look at each other, then up. Sure enough, there’s mistletoe. Of course there’s fucking mistletoe.

“Yeah, no. Not doing that.” Steve says.

Tommy materialises next to Carol, lets her drape herself over him.

“What’s the matter, Stevie? Hargrove not pretty enough for you?”

“That isn’t- I’m not-“ Steve sighs. “I don’t want to.”

“Doesn’t matter if you want to, you just gotta. Christmas rules.” Carol says. Tina stumbles in, supported by Nicole.

“What’s Christmas rules?” She slurs.

Carol points at Steve and Billy. “They’re under mistletoe and won’t kiss.”

“’S my party,” Tina says. “you gotta kiss. ’S the rules.”

Billy Hargrove doesn’t want to kiss Steve Harrington. He really doesn’t. He _does_ want to get under Steve’s skin, though. He leans against the doorway, shrugs. “I don’t care. Harrington’s the one that’s being a little bitch about it.”

Steve glares at Billy. Billy arches a brow in response. “Fine.” He grits out.

Billy puts on his best shit eating grin, pushes his chest out a little, tips up his chin. “Don’t have all night, Harrington.”

Steve screws his eyes shut, wrestles with something before leaning in and quickly pecking Billy on the lips. Billy scoffs.

“You call _that_ a kiss? No wonder Wheeler dumped your ass.”

Tommy, Carol, Nicole and Tina all say _oooooh shit_ in unison.

“You want a real kiss? I’ll give you a real fuckin’ kiss,”

It all happens pretty fast after that. One moment Steve’s clenching his jaw and fists like he’s about to hit Billy, the next he’s got a hand in Billy’s hair, couple fingers in one of his belt loops, pulls Billy flush against him. Billy’s mouth drops opens in surprise and Steve takes the opportunity to lick his way in.

Their audience whistles and cheers and laughs. Steve’s a fucking good kisser. Billy’s not backing down. He gets a hand on Steve’s ass, slips another up his shirt and moans into Steve’s mouth. He’s hard against Billy’s thigh. Billy’s getting there, pushes forward so Steve can feel it.

They just keep kissing. Billy cracks an eye open, kitchen’s empty. He could stop this now, there’s nothing to prove. Steve hasn’t noticed.

Steve breaks it off about a minute later, pants into Billy’s face. “That was-“

Billy finishes for him. “Good.”

“Yeah,”

“You’re a damn good kisser, Harrington, shame it’s the only thing you’re good at.”

Steve licks his swollen lips, lets his eyes roam Billy up, down and back again. “’S not.”

“Prove it,” Billy says.

Steve smiles at him, slow and predatory. “Ok.” Billy lets Steve take his hand and lead him upstairs.

**Author's Note:**

> Fumbled a bit with the end of this, wanted to make it longer than it is and turn it into a whole fic but that's not remotely feasible with everything else I have to get done rn. Hope y'all still enjoy!
> 
> [Tumblr](https://bry0psidawrites.tumblr.com) [Twitter](https://twitter.com/bryopsida)


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